


Runaways

by shinigami_yumi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Burns, Fluff and Angst, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Nightmares, Sam Winchester's Visions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-08
Updated: 2013-11-08
Packaged: 2017-12-31 14:07:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1032579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinigami_yumi/pseuds/shinigami_yumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for <a href="http://sastielweek.tumblr.com/post/63586763373">Sastiel Week 2013</a> on Tumblr.</p><p>AU where Dean dies in a fire, and Sam never goes to Stanford. A burning pillar falls on Sam as he tries to get to Dean, and he wakes up in a hospital with severe burns on his back. There he meets Jimmy Novak, a schizophrenic patient who claims to be Castiel, an angel of the Lord. As Cas spends more and more time with him, Sam learns that what Cas is hearing are the voices of other angels, and they bear grim tidings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Runaways

**Author's Note:**

> Art & beta by the lovely [Meinarch](http://sassypancakes.tumblr.com). Click the image for the full piece!

[ ](http://i349.photobucket.com/albums/q398/kidezt/BBart/therunawaysfinal-s.png)

Some days, Sam wakes to find Castiel watching him from a chair by his bedside. Sam doesn’t know him, not really, but he has kind blue eyes and a soothing touch when he combs his fingers through Sam’s hair, so Sam is glad to see him. Once, feverish and barely awake, he wondered who the man was, and the other simply said his name before Sam’s consciousness slipped away.

Other days, it’s Dr. Pearlman at his bedside, telling him the burns will heal in a few months, that he’s in good hands, and he’ll be fine. Sam wants to tell her she’s wrong, that he’ll never be fine, not without Dean, but she always leaves before he can speak, and then he’s falling asleep again.

Once, he thinks he saw Dad looking at him sadly. He tried to apologize —“I’m sorry I couldn’t save Dean. It should have been me”— but Dad hushed him and told him everything would be okay when he woke up. He knows it’s a lie though, could see it in Dad’s eyes. Nothing’s been okay since Mom died, and now Dean’s dead too. When he woke, Dad was gone, and now he doesn’t know if Dad was ever here.

Today, he wakes alone.

For the first time, his head is clear enough to really take in his surroundings — he’s lying on his stomach in what looks to be a single hospital room. The door is open, and several people walk by as he watches. His nose hurts, albeit bearably, and a glance up finds a bag of liquid connected to a thin tube going into his nose. There’s the sound of… pumping behind him, and he tries to turn for a look, but the movement creates excruciating pain in his back, so he gives up.

Just then, the nurse comes in.

“Oh, you’re awake. How are you feeling today?” She smiles, and he tries to smile back, succeeding weakly. He’s seen her before, tending his burns. Dr. Pearlman calls her Jolene.

It takes several tries —his throat is so hoarse, and it’s hard to talk around the tube— as Jolene checks on him to answer, “Stiff.” It comes out as a raspy whisper, and he’s surprised she understood.

“Sorry. Unfortunately, you can’t move much yet. Can’t aggravate the wounds on your back.”

“How long?” he manages.

“Till you can change positions? A month at least.”

“No.” That’s not what he meant to ask.

“Oh. Have you been here? Two weeks as of yesterday. Here.” She brings a glass of water over and carefully feeds him water with a straw for which he is deeply grateful.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.” She walks back out of sight behind him. “Your dressings look fine for now, but I’ll come back and check in an hour or so, okay? I know it seems like you’ve just woken up, but get more rest.”

“Wait.”

“Hm?” She pauses and turns halfway to the door.

“Do you know… the man who sits here sometimes?” Castiel wears white scrubs, so he’s probably another patient. “Blue eyes, dark brown hair. He says his name is Castiel.”

“Oh! You mean Jimmy. He’s a patient in the psychiatric ward, always claims he can hear voices and his real name is Castiel, an angel of the Lord. He’s allowed to walk around during the day because he’s harmless though, and the other patients seem to feel better after talking to him, so I’d say he’s pretty angelic.” She chuckles. “He spends a lot of time in the chapel. If I see him, I’ll tell him his chosen one asked about him.”

She leaves before he can tell her not to bother Jimmy on his account, and he sighs, considering what he just heard. It’s strange. “Castiel” hadn’t struck him as a schizophrenic.

 

When he wakes again, Jimmy is sitting at his bedside. He shifts, wincing at the pain, and blue eyes immediately train on him. “Sam.” Jimmy places a calming hand on his head, combs fingers gently through his hair, and looks at him with deep regret as he stills. “Once, I could have healed you with a touch.”

Remembering Jolene’s words, he smiles. “It’s sweet that you want to. Thank you.”

Jimmy mirrors the expression, then grows sad. "I'm sorry for your loss."

Sam stiffens. "H—how do you know?"

"The angels. They talk about you and your brother."

Sam hopes Jimmy's merely overheard the hospital staff talking about the tragedy.

"The Righteous Man is slain, they say. This is not in accordance with Father’s Plan. We must do something."

All right. Maybe not. Maybe Jimmy really does hear voices.

“How do you know they’re angels?” They could be spirits haunting him.

"We're the only ones who use that frequency."

That frequency? “How do you know that?”

“I remember.” Jimmy sighs, looking at his face. “You don’t believe me.”

“You have to admit it’s a little hard to buy what you’re selling.”

Jimmy nods. “That’s all right. But you have to get better, Sam.” Blue eyes look gravely into his own. “You’re in danger. The fire was only the beginning. Demons are coming for you.”

He stands to go, but Sam grabs his hand to stop him. “Cristo.” Jimmy doesn’t flinch. “Who are you, really?” There is no way he could have known, no way. Not even from ghosts haunting the hospital.

Jimmy turns and gently covers Sam’s hand with his own. “I told you. I am Castiel, an angel of the Lord.” He pauses, looking rueful. “Well, I was, at any rate.”

 

Another month passes as Sam recovers slowly. Bobby comes to visit once. He hasn't heard from Dad in a while either. They don't talk about Dean.

Cas spends more and more time in his room with him, looking increasingly worried whenever he thinks Sam isn’t looking. Still, Sam has come to trust that Cas will tell him if and when he’s truly in danger. Some days, he feels better than others, and those are the days he most notices Castiel’s anxiety.

Sometimes, they just talk. Most of the time though, Cas reads to him or tells him stories. He tells Cas he doesn't have to, that he should do what he likes, and Sam will be just fine, but Cas answers, "I like talking to you,” with a smile like sunshine, and that settles it.

It keeps him from thinking too much about Dean.

Cas tells him stories from ancient times and what Heaven was like, and occasionally, it frustrates the former angel that he can’t remember a certain detail. Sam tries to tell him it’s okay, but it doesn’t console him, and the limitations of being human appear to have been a lifelong source of vexation.

“So why did you come down here?” Sam asks at last when Cas frowns at their lunch and remarks on the inconvenience of having to eat.

Cas hesitates and, just as Sam is about to apologize for prying, quietly admits, “I doubted my orders. Free will is a human privilege. There is no place in the ranks for disobedience.”

Tentatively, Sam tries, “I”m sure you had a good reason.”

There’s a sardonic twist to the other’s smile this time. “I found out later that I was right to question my superior’s orders. She was punished for trying to disrupt Father’s Plan.”

“See?” Sam swallows another piece of meatloaf. “Sometimes doubt is good.”

“And now I wonder if perhaps she was right, if doing as she asked could have averted more tragedy.”

As Cas chews his carrots, pensive, Sam hazards, “What made you doubt the order in the first place?”

Again, Cas hesitates to answer. Finally, he sighs, “I was asked to slay an innocent woman.” He shakes his head sadly. “She was with child. I couldn’t do it. Just like that time in Egypt. Only the Pharaoh was deserving of the plague. Most of the children were innocent. I… I killed the firstborn prince, then fled. I couldn’t even watch my brothers and sisters carry out the order. I was reprimanded and… I must have been brainwashed. I didn’t remember this until that night I went to the woman’s house and found her several months pregnant with her own firstborn.”

“I’m sorry,” Sam mumbles, for asking. These are such unhappy memories. And it’s hard to hear that he’s been praying to destroyers all his life, no matter the lore. What if Dean...

Cas shakes his head. “No, I’m sorry, Sam.” He places a hand on Sam’s knee. “Don’t lose faith. Even Anael only thought she served the greater good. The Plan is just. Sometimes, bad things happen to make way for better things. It’s just often hard to see that.”

Sam smiles then, covering Castiel’s hand with his own and squeezing it. “I’m glad there are angels like you, Cas. It makes me feel like we humans have a chance at salvation.”

Cas sets his tray aside, lunch finished, and stands. Murmuring something Sam doesn’t understand, he takes Sam’s face in his hands and kisses Sam on the forehead.

“Don’t let anyone tell you you’re unworthy, Sam Winchester.” He guides Sam’s head to rest on his shoulder. “Your soul is beautiful.”

 

Cindy, his nurse on the night shift, is here to change the dressing on his wounds, put the feeding tube back in to supplement his protein intake and sedate him for the night as usual. He doesn’t think he needs the drugs anymore, but she is always quite insistent because “it also makes sure you don’t move in your sleep and end up aggravating your wounds before they’re fully healed,” so he has given up protesting. The skin grafts have mostly healed —surprisingly quickly, according to Dr. Pearlman— but he can’t lie on his back yet because they are still fragile.

The drugs kick in quickly as always, and it's not long before he finds himself drifting off. Just before he closes his eyes, he thinks he sees the feeding tube turn red, but that's probably the drugs and a trick of the light.

 

"Sam. Sam!"

He opens his eyes to Cas shaking him gently, voice quiet but urgent. The sunlight is streaming in through the window, so it must be mid-morning.

"Cas?" He shifts, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"lt's been bugging me for some time now, but today I'm sure. It can't be any medication. Can you smell the sulfur? Demons were here, Sam."

Now that Cas has mentioned it, he does notice a particularly strong stench of sulfur in the room today. But what would a demon come to do if not to kill him? They killed Mom and Dean. Surely, they wouldn’t leave without finishing the job. Maybe that’s why Dad’s been gone — on the run from demons.

Carefully, he turns to face Cas, checking first to make sure no one outside could possibly hear. "What did they do?"

"I don't know, Sam. That's what scares me. I can't find any discernable demonic acts. And yet..." The other trails off, looking troubled.

He takes Castiel’s hand. “What is it, Cas?”

“The… demonic presence is strongest around you,” Cas answers quietly, fingers curling over his hand.

Sam blinks. “What? Cas.” He sits up carefully, but moving doesn’t hurt much anymore, just a mild discomfort. “You don’t think I’m possessed, do you? I’m not, I promise. You can test me.”

Cas shakes his head, covering Sam’s hands with his own. “I know. I know, Sam. I can see their real faces.” He looks into Sam’s eyes. “I just… I wish I could determine what they’ve done to you.”

“I feel fine, Cas,” Sam insists, laughing nervously. “Better than ever.”

Cas nods, but doesn’t speak because Jolene has arrived.

“Good morning, Sam!” she greets cheerfully. “Ah, J—Castiel, you’re here early today. You’ve been spending a lot of time here lately, haven’t you?”

Cas smiles, eyes lighting up. “Yes. Sam is a wonderful friend. I always enjoy our talks.”

The words fill Sam with warmth, and he laces their fingers even as he returns Jolene’s greeting and accommodates her usual tasks.

“Wow,” she exclaims when she’s removed last night’s bandages. “You’re healing really well, Sam. Soon, you won’t be needing these anymore.”

He smiles, turning to Cas, but the other’s look of disquiet has returned, and— oh. If he’s healing really well, that means he can probably leave the hospital soon. But that means he won’t see Cas anymore. Could that be what’s troubling the former angel? Perhaps no one has ever believed him before.

“Come with me, Cas,” he says when Jolene leaves, pulling the other closer. “You’re not crazy. You don’t have to stay here. We can leave together.”

Blue eyes widen in surprise, then soften with such tenderness, and Cas leans forward to kiss him on the cheek and murmur, “I’d like that, Sam. I’d like that very much.”

 

The hospital is dark, and he’s walking down an unknown corridor. Suddenly, he hears a scream — familiar, and it sends him running. He throws the door open when he finds it, knowing it’s the right one, knowing to look up, and Cas is there, bleeding on the ceiling just like Dean. Sam rushes to him, screaming his name as he reaches for him, and the inferno engulfs them, but he pays it no mind.

He told Cas last month that they’d leave together, that neither of them would be alone anymore.

“Cas!” he shouts, stretching to his full height.

Their fingertips just barely touch.

“CAAASSS!!!” he screams, sitting up abruptly in the morning light.

He’s in his room, sunlight streaming in through the windows and the sheets soaked with sweat. He looks up at the door just as Castiel comes running in.

“Cas,” he gasps, fear warring with relief, and the former angel just pulls him into a hug. “Cas,” Sam says again, holding him tight and breathing deeply of his scent. He smells like light, like _life._

Castiel’s fingers card through soft brown hair because he knows it soothes. “Sam,” he sighs softly. “Sam, I’m right here. It’s okay. I won’t leave without you.”

Sam shakes his head, but says nothing. He dreamed about Dean too. Over two weeks before the fire. Exactly like it happened. And he kept telling himself he'd wake up again; it's just a nightmare again. But the flames burned them away as he reached for Dean, and the pillars of their life fell upon him. They should have fortified the place better. He shouldn't have left.

It's not just a nightmare. He's not going to wake up next time.

He won’t let it happen to Cas.

 

Cas is still here when Cindy comes in that night, and he glances at her before murmuring, “I had no idea it was already so late,” his voice wistful.

Sam covers Castiel’s hand with his own. “Stay?”

“Until they demand I return to my room,” Cas agrees, resting his head on Sam’s pillow.

“Ah,” Cindy drawls as she starts preparing the night’s drugs and wound dressings. “You must be the one they keep talking about, the mental patient who thinks he’s an angel.”

“Don’t call him that,” Sam chides. "He's a wonderful person, no matter what he believes."

"Well, look who's got his panties in a twist," she replies, lifting the tray of supplies. "I guess your boyfriend's just going to have to earn his wings."

Castiel's smile turns sardonic as he stands. "Perhaps I shall."

Cindy starts as she hits an invisible wall before Sam’s bed. “What?” she snarls, looking around.

Horrified, Sam’s eyes widen as Cas swiftly recites, “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica.”

He hadn't wanted to believe it. They're already here. What if that night wasn't a trick of the light? "What have you done to me?"

She screams, eyes turning black as she drops the tray, looking around frantically for the devil’s trap. He'd drawn it faintly upon the ceiling in pencil earlier. Cas continues the Latin exorcism with practiced ease.

“Heh, you may send me back to Hell, but we’ll find you, Sam Winchester.” She smirks, whirling on him. “We’ll find you!” she shouts. “Your brother will find you!”

“What?!” He sits up, stricken, but black smoke is already pouring out of Cindy — Cas is done. The black smoke sinks into a point on the floor, and Cindy collapses in a crumpled heap, likely dead. “Cas.” He turns, reaching for the other. “Cas, what she said about my brother, is it possible?”

“Sam,” the former angel murmurs sadly, taking his hands and coming closer. “Sam, don’t listen to her. She’s a demon. She lies.”

He pulls Castiel closer, frantic. “But is it possible?”

The other's expression clouds. “Yes.”

_No. What if…_

“Sam, we have to go.”

He looks back up at Cas. That’s right. They know where he is now. “They’ll find me again.”

"There are ways to hide from them, but we can't stay." He glances at Cindy. "They'll think we killed her."

Sam nods. Specifically, they'll think Cas killed her. They're the only two people in the room, and Cas is the mental patient. He scrambles out of bed.

"C'mon."

He takes Cas by the hand and peers surreptitiously out the door. The corridor is empty for now. Shutting the door behind him, he leads Cas to the emergency stairwell. No one intercepts them all the way out the back door and into the parking area. Sam looks around for an inconspicuous car to steal when one catches his eye.

_The Impala?_

Cas follows him for a closer look. "Yours?"

"My brother's," he answers, distracted as he inspects it. It's unmistakable. Dad must have brought it here. But that means... "What would it take, Cas?"

Troubled blue eyes flick to him as he looks over his shoulder. He doesn't clarify, but Cas seems to understand just fine.

"Demons generally only trade in souls."

Maybe it wasn't a feverish dream. Maybe...

"Sam."

Right. He picks the lock and hotwires the car as Cas gets in. Dean would flip a shit if he saw this, but Bobby can probably set him up with a new set of keys. Destination set, he pulls out of the lot. In the rearview mirror, he sees some hospital staff running out and pointing, so he floors it, exiting quickly onto the highway.

It's a long drive to Bobby's from here, and he's not sure how much time passes in silence before he glances sideways. Cas is looking out the window.

"Cas?"

The other turns, and his pensive expression melts into a smile. "What is it, Sam?"

Abruptly, it occurs to Sam that he'd simply assumed Cas would come with him to Bobby's. He’d never even asked if Cas had someplace he wanted to go.

"Um." He ducks his head, sheepish. "Is there anywhere you'd like to go?"

"Where are you going?"

"To see a family friend, another Hunter. Did you see Bobby when he visited?"

"The older gentleman? Yes, I saw him leaving as I came that day."

Sam tries to reconcile the image of Bobby with the word 'gentleman' and chuckles slightly. "Well, we're going to his house for now, but if there's anywhere you'd like to go later—"

Cas shakes his head. "We'd only endanger them."

He nods. "That reminds me."

They're far enough away now, so he pulls over and pops the trunk. The bags from their last trip are still in there. He smiles sadly. The last thing he'd said to Dean was that he was leaving. They fought, and he walked out, and by the time he came back...

Warm fingers touch his cheeks as his vision blurs, and he turns to Cas. "I'm sorry."

It's all his fault — Dean, Cas, maybe Dad too. If demons hadn't been after him —and God only knows why they'd been after his family all this while, why they killed Mom all those years ago—, if they hadn't exorcised Cindy in his room, Cas wouldn't be on the run as a murder suspect.

Again, Cas shakes his head, more emphatically. "It's not your fault, Sam. None of it."

"I should never have gotten you into this."

" _I_ chose this, Sam." Cas cups Sam's face, makes him look into blue eyes. "I heard the voices. I knew about you. It didn't stop me. Will you ask me why?"

He pulls the former angel into his arms. "No," he mumbles, face buried in short dark hair. "No. I'm glad you're here with me. Thank you."

Castiel's fingers lace behind his neck. "Did you want something from here?"

Nodding, he takes a deep breath to compose himself. "Yeah."

He turns back to the trunk and reaches into the bags. He has a clean gray shirt and a pair of jeans. It's late at night, and the highway is deserted, so he briskly changes before looking through Dean's bag.

It feels... wrong.

None of the clothes will really fit Cas anyway.

Still, he grabs one of Dean's spare jackets. "Here." He holds it out, turning to Cas. "Put this on for now." He smiles a little. "We'll go buy you some clothes later."

Cas takes it and puts it on obediently, never looking away. Sam thinks to ask what's wrong, but then Cas catches his eye, and he recognizes it — the look of undisguised want.

"Cas—"

"Sam."

They start speaking at once and stop.

Then they’re reaching for each other as one, and Sam's not really sure what Cas had in mind, but he brushes his lips against Castiel's, and soft lips part to his without hesitation.

Cas presses their bodies closer as he deepens the kiss, hands resting lightly on his shoulders, and it’s perfect. He rests one hand on the small of Castiel’s back, cups the back of his angel’s head with the other, and it’s perfect. Like the pieces of a puzzle falling into place, like finding a matching sock or glove, Cas fits into his arms like he belongs, and it's perfect.

When they pull apart, it's as if Cas wants something more, as if those blue eyes could swallow him whole.

"I've been wanting to do that for a long time," Cas admits softly with a small smile.

"I'd like to keep doing that for a long time," he replies, laughing as he ducks his head.

"But, for now, we need to keep moving?"

"Yeah."

He grabs a spare number plate and covers their real one with it before shutting the trunk and getting back into the car to continue the drive. Cas covers his hand on the gear stick, and for the first time since the fire, Sam feels comforted.

 

"Hey."

Sam looks up from his laptop. Despite their shopping trip to the local thrift stores, Cas still prefers to sleep in his hospital scrubs. "They're comfortable," he says, but he's also fallen in love with the trench coat they picked up, so he wears it everywhere, including over the scrubs to bed.

"Hey," Sam says, smiling.

They strengthened the wards on Bobby's place with a little extra help from Cas, and Sam has spent the last few weeks recuperating in Bobby's spare room. Bobby and Cas have settled into a kind of easy companionship, researching together. There've been increasing signs of demonic activity lately, and they're closing in.

"Sam." Cas sits beside him on the bed. "I... I heard the angels again."

The other's disquieted expression makes Sam sit up, makes him run his hand through Castiel's soft hair as if tucking stray locks behind his ear. "What is it, Cas?"

Castiel leans into the touch, shifts closer. "The Righteous Man is arisen in the clutches of darkness," he quotes quietly. "We must restore the Plan."

Sam remains silent, lying back down as his heart sinks. Cas lies down beside him, settling into his side, head pillowed on his shoulder. Then Dad really… Sam wraps an arm around the former angel, lets Castiel’s grounding presence comfort him. Perhaps if they bring Dean’s body to him, he can exorcise the demon inside and get his brother back. And yet… What if they leave Dean like Cindy? What if Dean’s body was never fully restored? But Dad wouldn’t have made the Deal if it wasn’t good, right?

“If they’ve been in Dean’s head, then they know we’re here,” he says at last.

Cas nods. “If only I still had my Grace, I could protect you, Sam.”

He turns to press a kiss to the other’s forehead. “Is there a way to get it back?”

For a long time, Cas says nothing, pensive. Then, “I suppose I would just have to find it. It fell to Earth when I did, probably somewhere nearby too.”

Sam sits up and grabs his laptop. “When and where?”

Cas sits up as well, leaning into his side to look at the screen. “I was born as Jimmy Novak on the twenty-second of February, nineteen seventy-nine, in Pontiac, Illinois.”

“So in May nineteen seventy-eight, perhaps?” Sam types in the date. “What would it have looked like to human eyes?”

Cas closes his eyes, tries to imagine. “Like a shooting star.”

“Shooting star over Pontiac… Got it. One landed in Dargan Park on the seventeenth of May.”

Castiel smiles wistfully. “I wonder if it’s still there, and what it’d look like.”

Sam sets the laptop aside to face him fully. “Beautiful. Just like you.”

The other’s smile widens, happier and a little shy.

“Would you like to go take a look? We could go tomorrow.”

Cas doesn’t answer immediately, and something occurs to Sam then. Perhaps if he had wanted it back, Cas would have sought it out years ago.

Concerned, he asks, “Do you want it back?”

Cas sighs, snuggling closer. “It’s funny,” he murmurs. “For a long time, until I met you, I did. And yet, when I am at last happy as I am, I find I need its power.”

Sam wraps Cas in his arms. “You don’t have to, Cas. We’ll figure something out. Y—”

“Shh,” Castiel interjects softly, tracing the scars on his back gently. “Nothing will change, Sam.”

“No?” Sam looks into blue eyes with an adoring smile. “You’ll have wings and a halo a—”

“And be the size of your Chrysler building, not that you’d be able to see,” Cas finishes, pecking him on the nose. “But I’d be able to protect you, and that’s all I need. We’ll get your brother back, Sam.”

Sam smiles, cradling his lover close. Cas truly knows his heart.

“I love you, Cas,” he murmurs, kissing familiar lips. “And it wouldn’t be faith if you could see it.”

 

When they reach Dargan Park, Cas looks around for a few moments before immediately making his way towards a lone cherry tree on the other side. It’s spring, and the cherry blossoms are in full bloom.

“Is this it?” he asks, coming to a stop behind Cas under the tree.

Cas nods once. “Yes, but it’s gone now.” He shakes his head sadly. “Someone must have found it.”

Sam squeezes his shoulder lightly. “Then I guess we should be heading back.”

They turn to find themselves surrounded.

“Dean?” The older Winchester looks just like Sam remembers, like he hadn’t been burned to ashes and charred bone.

Dean steps forward towards them. “The one and only. Missed me, Sammy?”

Before he can answer, Cas pulls him back, so their backs are nearly to the tree, and starts reciting the exorcism. Everyone’s eyes turn black, and Dean waves his hand, sending Cas flying to the side.

“Cas!!” Sam dives after him and barely manages to pull him out of reach of another demon in the nick of time. Cas rolls them over to evade another strike, but a heavy foot pins them both to the ground. It’s Dean. He knows it.

“Guess not,” continues the demon wearing his brother. “Little slut found a replacement in just a few months. Guess I’ll just have to get rid of it and take my baby brother home.”

“Don’t do this, Dean,” Sam pleads as he wraps himself protectively around Cas. “I know you’re in there. Fight it!”

The demon laughs — Dean’s voice, but it sounds all wrong. “Oh, your brother’s in here, all right. Seething with jealousy, bitter with guilt and resentment. The perfect meatsuit, and so easy!” He hauls Sam to his feet, Sam lifting Cas with him. “Kill the extra,” he orders. “When I bring Sam Winchester back, Az—ah!”

He drops Sam and Cas, and they turn just in time to see him glow and slump to the ground to reveal a lady with long red hair standing behind him. She is dressed casually in a sweater and jeans, but there’s a great presence about her, and her eyes glow with a bright blue light.

“I guess we’ll never know,” she says, looking up at the other demons.

Immediately, they all smoke out of their hosts and flee. The bodies collapse to the ground like puppets with their strings cut off, and the black smoke rushes out of sight.

“Dean!”

Sam rushes to his brother’s side as Cas looks up at the woman. She doesn’t even blink as she lowers herself on one knee to press two fingers to Dean’s forehead. They both glow, then Dean is gasping for breath as he sits up abruptly.

“Sammy?” Green eyes dart from Sam to Cas to the woman and back. “What th—”

“Dean Winchester,” she intones solemnly. “We have work for you.”

She is about to reach for him again when Cas whispers, “Anael.”

 _Anael? That Anael?_ Sam looks up. _The one that wanted to kill an innocent mother?_

Her eyes flick to Cas, finally, and there’s a flash of recognition. “Castiel.”

A blade slips into her hand, and Sam hurriedly pulls Dean with him to stand between her and Cas. “What’s going on? You’re an angel, aren’t you?”

“He must be punished for his crime, as I was for mine,” she answers, never looking away. “Step aside.”

“You’re supposed to show mercy!” Sam protests.

“It’s no use,” Cas says quietly behind him, fingertips trailing almost imperceptibly over his back. “They must have brainwashed her too. She never used to be like this.”

Suddenly, she’s gone, and he looks around for her. Just then, Cas presses his palm into Sam’s back. There’s a bright white light behind him, and he whirls around just as she vanishes, screaming.

“What the hell just happened?” Dean demands, seeming to have finally gotten his bearings.

“An angel,” Cas answers quietly. “She won’t be gone for long.”

“And who the hell are you?”

Before Cas can reply, Sam interrupts by pulling Dean into a tight hug. Dean returns it, and despite the awkward back pats, although they don’t say anything, the affection is palpable. It’s a long time before they let go, and even then, they still shake each other a little, like they can’t believe the other is real.

Hesitantly, Cas tries again. “Sam, we need to get out of here.”

Sam nods, turning towards the car. “He’s right, Dean.”

“Who’s Columbo?”

Sam turns back to them. “Dean, this is Cas, my boyfriend. Cas, my brother, Dean.”

Cas merely nods, but incredulous green eyes shift from Sam to Cas and back. “Seriously?”

Sam rolls his eyes, leading the way to the car. “Yes, Dean, seriously.”

There’s a pause, and then, “That’s my boy!” He claps Sam on the back, and Sam tries not to wince. “A couple of months, and my baby brother’s all grown up.”

Sam laughs, shaking his head and deciding not to dignify it with a response. He’s relieved though. That went over more easily than he’d expected.

As soon as the Impala is in sight, Dean rushes towards it. “Baby! Looking good!” He circles it, patting it affectionately. “Sammy been taking care of you?”

Cas raises an eyebrow, and Sam chuckles. “We just came from Bobby’s.” He tosses Dean the keys, and Dean grins as he climbs into the driver’s seat, running his hands over the familiar leather.

Sam takes shotgun, Cas climbs in behind him as Dean starts the engine with an approving smile, and everything feels right with the world. They pull out onto the street, and it’s just like old times — driving around in the Impala, looking for the next hunt. Only this time, it’s more than just a hunt.

"We need to get tattoos," Cas says suddenly as they enter downtown Pontiac.

Dean turns briefly. "What, the matching name over the heart kind?"

Sam gives Dean a Look as Cas tilts his head. "No, the matching anti-possession and anti-angel-tracking kind."

Dean raises an eyebrow. “Where’d you even find those?”

“It was Bobby’s idea,” Sam answers before Cas can. He doesn’t think revealing that Cas was an angel will earn any points with Dean. They can talk later.

“Right.” Dean pulls up in front of a tattoo parlor beside a café. “Sweet! They’ve even got pie.”

Sam laughs, taking Castiel's hand as they head in. Something big is afoot, and they’re caught in the middle of it, but he has Dean back and Cas with them. As long as they’re together, Heaven and Hell can hunt them to the ends of the Earth. They'll figure something out. They always do.

**Author's Note:**

> Any kind of feedback would be greatly appreciated! Do also visit [Meinarch's LJ post](http://kidezt.livejournal.com/6402.html) for this piece and leave her some feedback on her art! ♥


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